Prologue

A young boy sat alone in his parent’s vast library and turned a page. Numerous tomes and scrolls littered the floors and shelves. The entire library was disheveled, with dim candlelight from the boy’s desk hardly illuminating the room around him, except for his skin, once a pinkish hue, beginning to dull as if to match the library around him. The boy turned another page, his whitened knuckles tremor as he scanned each line praying for an answer. For the only answer. Exasperated, the boy leaned back and closed an old tome. The cover read: Ancient and Forbidden Magics: Necromancy. The boy opened up another book from the accumulating stack by his desk, and a line of desperate sweat paths its way down his forehead. Suddenly the boy begins flipping the pages violently, a slow mix of relief and excitement washing across his face.

“I will bring my mother back.” With a resolute heart, he gathered up his scattered books and kneeled on the floor. The boy’s unkempt brown hair laid dormant on the ground, as he wrestled through his things, fishing out a worn piece of chalk. The scraping chalk echoed through the maze of shelves as the boy drew a circle on the stone floor. He inlaid the circle with intricate designs, his hand dancing back and forth like a waltz. And then he began pouring once more through his belongings, picking out what looked to be bone. It looked like ivory gone stale, and the eerie nature of human bones made the boy uneasy. A few more oddities were produced. Hair, straw, and a crudely made knife. The knife in particular looks like it had seen recent use. Dried blood speckled the jagged blade. The boy laid these items carefully as if building a shrine. He produced the crude knife once again and raised it towards his right hand. With a swift motion, the boy sliced his palm, dripping blood across the circular altar. The blood began to hiss violently, disappearing before his eyes as a white vapor.

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An air of hesitance filled the library before the boy uttered a chant, barely more than a harsh whisper. Everything stopped. Even the wind stood still as the circle began to glow a faint white. An unnatural grey smoke consumed the offering within the circle, twisting and encircling itself, eating itself like an ouroboros. When the smoke cleared all that remained was a lone figure. It stood lifelessly. “Mother?” The boy managed to utter a single croak before the figure became illuminated by the candlelight. A grotesque, fleshy creature stood before the boy. The creature’s muscles moved visibly, though its eyes, if you could even call them that, sat lifeless in their sockets. The creature let out a breathy moan, barely resembling speech. The boy suddenly became aware of a putrid scent permeating throughout the library. He violently heaved onto the floor, before breaking into sobs.

Before him was not his mother, but an empty husk awaiting orders. Still reeling the boy looked down, his skin becoming tinged grey, as lifeless as the corpse before him. It was a permanent reminder of what he’d done, though barely noticeable. Suddenly. The boy felt as though every ounce of his energy had been drained, and he fell face-first into his vomit and he fell unconscious.